


This Celluloid Dream

by _Melodic_ (Sae)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art Shows, Artists, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Business, Cliche, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Crushes, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Moving In Together, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, Rimming, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8749141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sae/pseuds/_Melodic_
Summary: Credence Barebone enjoyed his simple, straightforward life. He worked at a bustling coffee shop during the day, created his art at night and mostly kept to himself.Enter Mr. Graves, a gorgeous stranger he had a one night stand with, and Credence's world gets flipped upside down.





	1. Prologue: I realized I never began

**Author's Note:**

> I created a mood-board to go along with the story:

  


☕ ☕ ☕

  


**_Prologue:_ **

 

“—and um, a large mocha latte,” a jittery young woman reads off a well folded piece of paper.

“Got that, Credence?” Lucy asks over her shoulder, entering the last beverage order into the computer.

“Yeah,” Credence softly replies, pouring off milk into the steamer. Lucy nods her head but still hands the itemized receipt over to him before turning back to the counter.

“Anything else?”

“No, that’ll be all.” The young woman, likely an intern, sighs in relief and hands over a credit card.

Credence gets to work, setting up paper cups and pressing buttons on the espresso machine. The early morning rush is nearly over and soon Credence will be able to take his first break of the day. He generally likes when it’s busy—it makes the time go by much faster—but today has been a bit too hectic for his taste. He carefully steams the milk, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Even though the air is frigid outside, it’s sweltering in the coffee shop. Credence looks forward to a nice walk under the grey, winter sky and some time to get away from the frantic bustle.

“Thank you!” the young lady hollers as she heads out the door, precariously balancing the large coffee order on a tray. Lucy turns to Credence, exhaling heavily and wiping her hands on her apron.

“What a rush, huh?” Lucy grabs her water bottle and takes a large swig.

“Yeah,” Credence agrees, wiping down the counter. “Almost break time, though.”

“You sure you don’t want to come with me to _The Strand_?”

“No, I’m fine,” Credence replies quietly. “I just want to get some fresh air.”

“Suit yourself.” Lucy shrugs and turns to the next customer at the counter.

It’s not that Credence doesn’t like his co-workers, he does, but he just prefers to be alone. He’ll chat a bit at work here and there, but Credence generally likes to keep to himself. Going for long walks during his break is usually the best part of his day and when inspiration is most likely to strike. His sketch pad is littered with images and ideas that jump out at him on the streets of the city.

Credence sighs happily as a gust of cold air rushes into the cafe, chasing away the unbearable heat. He lifts his head to glance at the new customer and his mouth drops open in shock.

A businessman stands at the door with dark, shortly-cropped hair and striking features. He’s wearing a three piece suit, finely detailed and very well-fitting. Heat rushes to Credence’s face and his heart pounds against his chest. This is the man from last week, the handsome stranger who brought him home and—Credence swallows roughly—gave him the best night of his life. Credence didn’t think he would ever see him again. They hadn’t even exchanged names. Yet here stands the unbearably attractive sex god looking better than ever. 

The man walks to the register and orders from Lucy with a charming smile. Credence steels his nerves and approaches the counter.

 

  


☕ ☕ ☕

  


**Next Part Coming: 11 December 2016**


	2. just like a memory, it twists me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence recalls the first time he met this handsome stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a little inspiration from QAF for this chapter.  
> Thank you to Persephoneapple for the beta!

  
  
_One Week Prior_

Credence finished his second drink, staring out at the sea of bodies on the dance floor. The cocktails tended to be strong at this bar, and Credence could feel his head becoming cloudy with a gentle buzz. He’d only been to this particular club a few times and still hadn’t gathered the courage to join the dancing men and let himself go. Even with the steady thrum of alcohol running through his veins, he found himself stuck by the bar, content to sit in the shadows.

He toyed with the idea of ordering another drink, or perhaps just heading home in defeat, when a handsome man sidled up next to him.

“Buy you a drink?” His plush lips spread into a smile, revealing perfect teeth.

“Uh, I—” Credence stuttered at a loss for words. The man raised an eyebrow amusedly, his lips quirking up playfully. “Yeah, sure. Thank you.”

The man flagged down the bartender, ordered two drinks, and then turned his attention back to Credence. His dark eyes looked Credence up and down, appraising him slowly. Credence’s cheeks flared with heat and he nervously looked down at the bar. What was a handsome man doing buying Credence drinks and looking at him like that? 

They talked very little as they drank their cocktails, instead communicating with heated glances and lingering touches. The liquor began to unravel Credence’s inhibitions and he found himself leaning into the man’s soft caresses, even initiating a few of his own.

“Where are you going now?” the man asked once their drinks were gone and the tab was paid.

“Nowhere special.” Credence shrugged, feeling bold as he maintained eye contact. The man grinned widely.

“I can change that.”

 

☕ ☕ ☕

 

The man’s loft was like nothing Credence had ever seen before. They took a crate elevator that opened directly into the massive apartment. Modern art pieces hung on the walls, floor to ceiling windows boasted magnificent views of the city, and his bedroom sat in the middle of the loft, separated only by foggy glass walls.

The liquid courage pumping through his veins began to fade and his nerves nearly made him run out the door. But then the man stepped forward, grabbed Credence by the shirt and dragged him into a mind-blowing kiss. Credence melted against him, his lips pliable and open under the other man’s ministrations.

Credence watched in awe as the man removed his shirt, slowly and carefully, his eyes never leaving Credence’s. The man’s chest was toned and smooth, lightly tanned and utterly delectable. Credence felt like he was still in high school, awkward and fumbling as he removed his clothing and followed him to the bed.

He tried to find the words—to tell the man he usually doesn’t do this thing, that he’d never actually done _that_. It was as if the man could read Credence’s mind. He was attentive and gentle, opening Credence up slowly with slick and careful fingers. Credence arched into his touch, his ass gradually stretching to accommodate the twisting digits inside.

When the man finally breached him, lining up his thick cock and pressing inside, Credence saw stars. The painful burn soon turned to pleasure and Credence was rocking back into the man’s thrusts, fingernails digging into his back. It felt like hours—years—he spent on those silk sheets, fucked slowly and throughly until he was a liquid mess, melted against the bed and babbling incoherent words.

Come early morning, after a quick repeat performance in the shower, the man called a cab for Credence, gave him a long, lingering kiss and sent him on his way. Credence was in too much of a daze to even ask for his name, to do much of anything besides mumble out a worshipful _thank you_.

He had not forgotten the handsome stranger; in fact, the man featured nearly every night in his fantasies. Credence would recall his broad chest, his skilled fingers, his thick cock. He’d lay beneath his covers, curl his hand around his growing erection and close his eyes to the memories. He wish he had a name to call out as his sticky release coated his fingers, but all that came to mind was that gorgeous face and stunning smile.

Credence truly didn’t imagine he would ever lay eyes on the man again, even though he did toy with the idea of returning to that club to search him out. 

“Hey, earth to Credence.” Lucy waves her hand in front of his face. “Want to get started on this ticket already?”

The man turns his attention to Credence, his eyes widening and mouth slightly parting in surprise. Recognition floods into those dark eyes and they pierce into Credence’s as he stares. 

☕ ☕ ☕

 

**Next Chapter Coming: 18 December 2016**  



	3. you land as lightly as the new snow, cinematic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence deals with the shock of seeing Graves again.

☕ ☕ ☕

“Yeah, I got it,” Credence replies, snatching the paper from Lucy. His eyes fall to the credit card in her hand. _Percival Graves_. Of course such a mysterious, handsome man would have an obscure name like that. Although, Credence isn’t really in a position to speak about strange names. “Um, yeah. One large triple shot soy latte coming up.”

Credence busies himself, ducking down to grab the soy milk from the fridge and the designated soy steamer. He can feel the man’s eyes on him, even as he keeps his own trained down and away. A faint blush rises up his throat, peeking up beneath his collar.

He finally steels his nerves and lifts his gaze as he hands the finished beverage to the man. Their fingers brush in the exchange and Credence feels sparks travel along his arm at the contact.

“Credence, is it?” he asks, eyes flicking down to the name tag on his apron.

“Yes.” Credence’s heart pounds wildly against his chest. “Mr. Graves.”

“Mr. Graves?” The man’s face breaks into a charming grin. “So formal. I think I like it.”

“Would you like anything else, sir?” Credence asks politely, nervously looking over Graves’ shoulder.

“Yes, I would,” Graves replies, his eyes dark and predatory. “But I suppose I’ll come back another time for that.”

“I’ll be here,” Credence responds eagerly, mentally cursing himself for such a stupid reply.

“I hope so.” Graves looks Credence up and down slowly. “It was good to see you again, Credence.”

Graves winks—oh god, _winks_ —and walks out the shop, whistling softly to himself.

“Did you know that man?” Credence starts, turning around to find Lucy watching him carefully with crossed arms.

“No,” Credence denies, shaking his head. “Well, not really.”

“You’re hiding something,” Lucy remarks excitedly, leaning towards him.

“I’m gonna take my break.” Credence hurriedly removes his apron and shoves it beneath the counter. 

He grabs his bag from the backroom, quickly shrugging on his jacket and rushing out the door. He insistently ignores whatever it is Lucy calls out after him.

☕ ☕ ☕

Credence tosses his keys onto his desk, turns on his lamp, and drapes his coat over his chair. The landlord still hasn’t fixed the building’s boiler and Credence’s apartment is freezing. The radiator hisses in protest only but emits the smallest bit of heat.

His apartment is, admittedly, a bit of a wreck. The neighborhood is terrible, the walls paper thin, and the nearest subway blocks away. Still, it’s all Credence can afford and he’s glad to have his own place. Bouncing from foster home to foster home was painful and he never found a place he truly belonged. His last foster home, right before he finally got cleared to be emancipated, was certainly the worst. Mary Lou, the foster mother from hell, was severely religious and extremely strict. She controlled every aspect of his life, as well as his adoptive sisters, bearing down heavily on him whenever he did not meet her impossible expectations.

When she first discovered his sketch pad, she was horrified. She locked him in his room, burned the drawings right in front of him, and spat at him about the evil that lurks in an artistic mind. Next followed the lashes. Credence wept that night, watching the ashes of his hard work crumble in his hand, the soot slipping between his bleeding fingers. She abused him day after day, drilling into his mind all of the shame associated with the way he _chose_ to be.

He’ll never forget the day he escaped, when he finally found a way to leave that destructive home behind. Signing the papers at court was like being reborn and the first time he walked into this haggard apartment he knew he was home.

Credence heads to the kitchen, grabbing a day old carton of lo mein and taking a bite over the sink. This place might not be much, but it’s his and he holds it close to his heart. He takes a few more bites and tosses the leftovers back in the fridge, pours himself a large glass of water and heads to the bedroom. He gingerly steps over a few canvases, the oil paint smeared across them still slowly drying, and finally sinks onto his bed.

Today was… interesting. He can’t get Mr. Graves’ face out of his head—that charming smile and those dark, searching eyes. He hates how his stomach clenches at the thought of seeing him again, how he aches for the man to return to the cafe. A one night stand with a shy, awkward kid might be novel once, but what interest would someone like Graves find in Credence for a repeat performance? It’s not even worth fretting over.

Credence gulps down the water and sets the glass on his nightstand. He turns on his side and faces the window, watching the lights of the city against the night sky. There is no point in placing hope in _what-ifs_ and _maybes_ ; Credence knows better than that.

Still, when he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep, it’s Graves’ face he sees in his dreams.

☕ ☕ ☕

**Next Chapter Coming: 23 December 2016 (posting early this week due to the holidays!)**  



	4. onto the melting boy, and melt away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post this week's chapter a little early due to the upcoming holidays. :]

☕ ☕ ☕

“Let me guess.” Lucy smirks knowingly. “Large triple shot latte with soy?”

“You got it.” Graves’ answering smile is all teeth. _Perfectly, straight teeth hidden behind gorgeous lips—_

“Credence?” Lucy holds the ticket up.

“Yeah, I’m on it.” Credence flushes and gets to work.

Much to Credence’s surprise, Graves came into the cafe the very next day. He then came the day after and again and again until he became a regular in less than a week. He always orders the same coffee and insists that Credence make it for him. Credence still remembers how his cheeks burned when he came back from his break yesterday to find Graves waiting patiently at one of the tables. Lucy teased him horribly as she explained that Graves liked his lattes a very particular way—one that only Credence could accomplish.

“Credence,” Graves greets, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning towards him.

“Hello, Mr. Graves.” Credence focuses on measuring out the soy milk and decidedly _not_ on the curve of Graves’ throat.

“Busy day?” Graves’ eyes trace Credence’s face carefully.

“A bit. The morning rush was intense.”

“You do seem a bit flushed,” Graves remarks with a smirk.

“Do I?” Credence swallows roughly and prays for his cheeks to cease their blushing. “Must be the steamer.”

“Must be,” Graves repeats coyly.

“You’re all set.” Credence nervously holds out the latte.

“Thank you.” Graves reaches out and wraps his hand over Credence’s as he grabs the cup. He smirks deviously and allows his fingers to linger a moment too long. “I’ll see you soon, Credence.”

☕ ☕ ☕

Graves is an incorrigible flirt. He’s friendly and charming, always taking time to crack a joke with Lucy or a fellow customer. Credence often feels prickles of jealousy creeping up his spine whenever Graves smiles warmly at someone else. He even feels a spark of envy watching Graves hold open the door for other patrons.

Those feelings are quickly swept away, however, when Graves turns his attention to Credence. It’s as if all the air and light vanishes from the room, leaving Credence struggling to breathe and squinting to see past the bright glow of Graves. Suddenly they are the only two people in the cafe, the only two people left in the world. Graves lavishes him with praise; complenting his hair, his eyes, even the way he pours designs over the lattes. 

When Graves finally takes his leave, departing with a slick smile and a devilish wink, the world comes rushing back. The sounds of chatting patrons, scraping chairs, and the clanking of the espresso machine all fill Credence’s ears. Credence busies himself right away, forcing his attention on the coffee orders and back to work. 

The day usually flies by and Credence remains in a calm, content mood for the rest of his shift. Crying children, impatient customers, and burnt coffee do little to distract from the warm, happy bubble growing in his chest.

☕ ☕ ☕

Today has been slower than usual, the minutes crawling by as Credence wistfully watches the clock. He reluctantly supposes the heavy, mournful air might be due to the fact that Graves has not stopped by in the morning as usual. Lucy watched him with a careful eye for most of the shift, a knowing look plastered across her face. Thankfully for Credence, she kept her lips sealed and didn’t broach the subject.

It’s not that Graves _needs_ to visit everyday—why should he? He’s a partner at a successful marketing firm (one of the many interesting facts Credence has learned over the past two weeks) and works with nonprofit organizations on the side. Credence is surprised Graves even had the time to stop by these last few weeks with what a busy schedule he must have.

Still, Credence became accustomed to seeing his handsome face, hearing his low voice, catching a whiff of that spicy aftershave he wears. He tries not think about it, attempts to distract himself with other things, but his mind refuses to cooperate. He’s so lost in his turbulent thoughts he doesn’t even notice his hand is resting on the steam wand until a sharp blast of pain bursts across his skin.

“Fuck,” Credence cries out, cradling his hand to his body.

“Language,” Lucy scolds playfully, her expression serious as she inspects his injury. “That doesn’t look good.”

“It’s fine,” Credence mutters, feeling foolish as he runs his hand under cold water.  
“All that’s left is to count the drawer. Why don’t you let me handle it and lock up. You should head home.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind—”

Credence is interrupted by the jangling of the bells at the front door. He sighs heavily and turns around. Their hours are clearly printed on the door. Who would try to come in five minutes before closing?

“I hope I’m not too late.”

 _Graves_. Credence’s stomach flips and the pain in his hand is momentarily forgotten.

“We already shut down the espresso machine,” Lucy says apologetically. “But we might still have some cold brew in the fridge.”

“No, that’s fine. I shouldn’t really have caffeine this late anyway. I just wanted to stop by and say hi.” Graves’ eyes carefully trace Credence’s face. “I’m happy I caught you before you left. Maybe I can walk you home?”

“I live in Brooklyn,” Credence replies, immediately wanting to smack himself for his stupid reply. What is it about Graves that makes him stumble over his words so much?

“Well, maybe just to the train then.” Graves smiles warmly, clearly not put off.

“Oh, I still need to—” Credence turns towards Lucy.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lucy waves him off, practically pushing him out the door. “I got it from here.”

“Shall we go?” Graves holds open the door, waiting patiently as Credence throws on his jacket and grabs his bag.

The sky has faded to navy blue but the city lights wash away any stars fighting to be seen. Even the moon struggles against the neon signs, peeking out stubbornly behind a tall building. Graves looks gorgeous bathed in the bright lights of streetlamps and storefronts. He stands closely to Credence, making sure to press tightly against him whenever they squeeze past others on the sidewalk. 

Credence feels like he’s on cloud nine, consumed with bliss just from walking in silence side by side with Graves. He mostly stares at the ground in front of him, focusing on the specks embedded in the concrete and how they sparkle like diamonds. Now and then, though, he steals a glimpse at Graves, utterly enthralled by his striking profile. Graves tilts his head, catching Credence in the act, and offers a smug grin in response. Embarrassment floods Graves and he flushes, curling his hands into tight fists before remembering, a moment too late, about his burn.

“Ouch, damn!” Credence flexes his injured hand.

“Are you okay?” Graves’ eyes fill with concern.

“Yeah, sorry.” Credence shoves his hands into his pockets. “Just a little burn from today.”

“Let me see.” Graves stops in his stride, grasping Credence by the shoulder. His voice is low and commanding and Credence immediately complies. Graves carefully examines his hand, lightly brushing his thumb over his palm. “Does it hurt?”

“Just a little,” Credence replies shakily, his breath catching at the gentle touch.

“Poor thing.” Graves lifts Credence’s hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss against the burned flesh.

Credence’s cheeks heat and he stares pointedly at his shoes, his body trembling from their close proximity. Graves keeps his hold on Credence’s injured hand, using his other to lightly cup Credence’s jaw. He inhales sharply as Graves directs Credence’s head, tilting it upwards to look directly into Graves’ searching eyes.

“Mr Graves,” Credence exhales. 

Credence starts as young woman bumps into him from behind, muttering a rushed apology as she sprints towards the subway stop on the corner. Graves slowly lets go of his grasp on Credence and Credence reluctantly takes a step back.

“I better get going.” Credence awkwardly adjusts his bag, refusing to meet Graves’ eyes.

“Okay.” Graves looks disappointed, but he quickly schools his expression and that warm smile returns. “Get home safe, Credence.”

“Thank you,” Credence replies quietly, quickly walking towards the subway.

He glances over his shoulder, right before heading down the stairs and underground, eager for one last glance of Graves’ handsome face. He’s met with only the glare of flashing headlights and the empty spot where Graves once stood.

☕ ☕ ☕

**Next Chapter Coming: 1 January 2017**


	5. all the colours upon leaving, all will turn to grey

☕ ☕ ☕

It’s been ten days since Graves last stopped by the cafe.

Credence didn’t mean to keep track—didn’t _want_ to—but his rebellious mind counted the days all the same. Credence isn’t surprised, not really. There are plenty of coffee shops scattered across New York City; why should Graves prefer to always frequent this one? There are plenty of young men in the city, much more confident and better-looking than Credence; why should Graves continue to shower him with his undivided attention?

Credence isn’t a fool—he’s a realist in fact—and he can’t pretend to be shocked that Graves may have moved on. It’s not like they’re anything to each other in any case. A one-night stand, even a magnificent one, and a bit of flirting doesn’t equal a relationship. Credence knows all this and yet it does little to abate the hurt that consumes his entire mind and body. Credence can’t help but feel abandoned and he’s left to once again wonder, just exactly what might be wrong with him. What about Credence makes him so easy to leave?

The ache in his chest tightens, the bitter feelings rising in his throat, and suddenly it becomes difficult to breathe. 

“Lucy?” Credence gasps out, his vision blurring at the edge. “Can I step out for a second?”

“Yeah, of course,” Lucy replies, shooting Credence a concerned look.

The wintry gust that greets Credence is welcome and he takes huge, grateful gulps of the frigid air. He rushes to the alley next to the shop and leans against the wall, the cold bricks soothing against his back. He steadies his breath and tries to focus, to push away the fervent emotions that threaten to suffocate him. 

Credence knows better than to get attached; he’s always been careful about flings in the past. He’ll date here and there, but never allows anyone to get too close—it’s just not worth the pain. He’s not even sure when Graves crept in, sneaking past his defenses to take residence beneath his skin.

Why did Graves stop showing up at the cafe? Could he sense Credence’s growing feelings and decided to back off? The usual doubts and trepidations creep in and suddenly Credence feels as if he is being transported back in time. He’s back in school, back in his abusive foster home, back to the cowering boy who cringes as bitter words are spat at him: waste of space, talentless, worthless.

_Freak._

Credence wraps his arms around himself, his breathing becoming shallow again as foolish tears prick at his eyes.

“Credence?” Credence starts as a warm hand grips his forearm, dark eyes shining with worry boring right into his. “Are you okay?”

Credence wants to nod his head, to assure Graves that everything is alright, that he isn’t having a mini breakdown just because the other man inexplicably disappeared for several days. Instead, he just opens his mouth uselessly, the words refusing to fall from his lips.

“It’s alright.” Graves’ voice is hoarse as he pulls Credence into a warm embrace, pressing Credence’s tear-stained face into his broad chest. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Credence’s shoulders shake with silent sobs, the fears that have consumed him for the past week coming to surface and overflowing. Waves of suppressed anxiety and worry crash against him, spilling into a broken explanation he mumbles against Graves’ chest.

Graves pets his hair, running his fingers through Crecence’s short locks as he murmurs reassurances into his ear. After a few minutes, Credence finally takes a sharp inhale and pulls away to face Graves.

“I’m sorry about that.” Credence sighs heavily and attempts to fix his mussed hair.

“Don’t apologize,” Graves asserts. 

“I—I thought you left me,” Credence admits softly. “You were gone for so long, out of nowhere, and I just thought—”

“I’m sorry.” Graves lifts his hand and reaches out to cup Credence’s cheek. “I had to fly out west for a last-minute business trip. I should have told you.”

“It’s fine,” Credence brushes off. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

“Credence—”

“I’m sorry I acted like such a…” Credence trails off and looks at the ground before continuing. “...freak.”

“You’re not a freak,” Graves passionately refutes. “You’re special, Credence, so very special.”

“Mr. Graves…”

“You’re very special to me.” Graves’ thumb gently strokes along Credence’s jaw. “I won’t leave you like that again, Credence. I promise.”

Credence’s breath hitches as Graves’ fingers twine into the hair at the nape of his neck. He leans forward when Lucy appears in the alleyway.

“Are you okay, Credence? You’ve been gone a—Oh. Hello, Mr. Graves.” Lucy’s face breaks into a sly smile. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” Credence rushes out, embarrassed. “Sorry to leave you hanging. I’m coming back now.” He glances quickly at Graves and the warm smile on his lips as he slowly releases his hold on Credence’s face. “Thank you, Mr. Graves. I better get back to work.”

Credence hurries back to the shop, following Lucy and ignoring her probing questions. He sighs happily as the heat of the shop wraps around him and moves behind the counter with a hop in his step. The tight tension in his chest from this past week loosens and unravels, leaving him with a glowing warmth for the rest of his shift.

☕ ☕ ☕

**Next Chapter Coming: 8 January 2017**


	6. in the glitter, in the dark, sunk into velvet

☕ ☕ ☕

Credence is completely gone, he can admit that now. He is head over heels, heart clenchingly, utterly smitten with Graves. 

Every time the other man enters the cafe, Credence’s breath catches in his throat and his pulse flutters with nerves. Graves becomes more friendly and familiar with each visit, constantly finding excuses to brush his hand against Credence’s and allowing his touch to linger. Credence knows Graves doesn’t miss the fierce blush that stains Credence’s cheeks during their interactions. Graves just smiles knowingly, his face open and warm, meanwhile his eyes swim with something more dark and heady. Credence feels as if he is being devoured whole in those instances, like Graves can see deep into his soul. His gaze burns straight through Credence, liquid heat spreading throughout his body and threatening to consume him entirely. 

Today Graves has ordered a pastry with his coffee order. He stands by the counter, obscenely licking spilled custard from his fingers. Graves releases soft, satisfied moans, his lips shiny with sticky sugar. Credence tries not to stare and, instead, polishes a hole into the counter and ignores the growing erection in his jeans.

“This is truly delectable.” Graves sucks his thumb into his mouth, flashing sharp teeth and a pink tongue.

“You do seem to be enjoying it,” Credence merely supplies, willing the growing hardness in his pants to go away.

“Do you make these on site?”

“Yeah.” Credence sets down the rag and finally looks up. “Our baker, Jacob, makes them.”

“Talented man.” Credence feels a pang of envy jolt through his stomach, ridiculous as it may be. Something in Credence’s expression must give him away because Graves leans forward with a teasing smirk on his lips. “Not as talented as the barista though, of course.”

“Thanks,” Credence laughs, biting the inside of his cheek to curb the grin that threatens to erupt across his face.

“So, are you closing soon?”

“Yeah.” Credence glances at the clock. “In a few minutes.”

“Well,” Graves begins, wiping his hands off on a napkin. “Maybe we can grab some dinner tonight.”

“Oh.” Credence’s heart pounds rapidly against his chest, excitement rising in his blood. _Shit._ “I—I can’t tonight.”

“Oh.” Graves looks taken aback, disappointment flashing across his face.

“I mean, I’d love to,” Credence eagerly insists. “I just… I can’t tonight.”

“Other plans?” Graves asks, jealousy lacing his voice.

“Sort of.” Credence swallows nervously. “Yeah.”

“Well, I better let you get to it then.” Graves nods, waving at Lucy on the other side of the cafe before swiftly walking out the door. Credence doesn’t miss the look of hurt that crosses his face.

“What was that about?” Lucy moves to the door, flipping the closed sign over. “Why didn’t you tell him about your show?”

“I don’t know.” Credence shrugs. He knows _why_ , but he can’t bring himself to say it aloud. “It’s not important.”

“You’re impossible,” Lucy huffs. “I’m taking out the garbage.”

Lucy grabs the bags, pushing her shoulder against the door, cold wind gusting through the open door. Credence sighs heavily and heads to the back room. His heart aches over the misunderstanding, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Graves he had an art show tonight. Even though all his friends and teachers have told him otherwise, Credence is terribly self-conscious about his art. There is still part of Mary Lou that lives in his mind, scolding and shouting at him, insisting he’s talentless and a nobody.

His art is far too personal, too raw, and too real. As much as he likes Graves, _wants_ Graves, he isn’t certain he’s ready for Graves to see him in that light. Credence isn’t sure he’ll ever be ready to bare his soul like that.

Lucy returns to the backroom, looking winded and flushed, but she ignores Credence’s questioning look.

☕ ☕ ☕

The gallery is packed; artists maneuver through the crowds and excited chatter fights for dominance over the music playing from the speakers.

Credence toys with the collar of his shirt before forcing his hands to his side. He’s been in a few shows, but he’s never seen a turnout like this. The gallery is, admittedly, a bit nicer than the shows he’s done before and it only makes sense the crowds would be grander. Still, he can’t seem to settle his nerves as he paces in front of his pieces, palms damp and sweaty.

“Wow, did you see Eric’s sculpture?” Lucy whistles lowly as she slides next to Credence. “Really impressive.”

“Yeah,” Credence agrees. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he sells it for twice the asking price.”

“Yours aren’t too shabby either.”

“Oh, hush.” Credence playfully bumps his shoulder against Lucy’s even as a blush spreads across his face.

“Oh, he came.” Lucy’s eyes are drawn to the doors, her body stiffening.

“Who came?” Credence peers over the crowd to follow Lucy’s gaze.

“Listen, now don’t get mad at me…” 

“Lucy,” Credence warns. “What did you do?”

“I may have followed Mr. Graves out of the cafe today.” Credence catches sight of Graves glancing around the gallery with interest. He looks spectacular in a three-piece suit, navy blue and slate, fitted to perfection. “And I might have told him about your show.”

“You didn’t,” Credence hisses, his previous nerves now increased tenfold. Graves catches sight of Credence and he smiles warmly, making his way through the crowd, towards him.

“You’ll thank me later,” Lucy promises, squeezing his shoulder and rushing away.

As if Credence weren’t already tittering on the edge of a nervous breakdown, now Graves is only several feet away, his intense gaze fixed on Credence. He’s yet to see Graves outside of work, not really anyway, and watching Graves approach him in this neutral territory sends chills down Credecene’s spine. How should he act? What should he say? Credence wishes he had some device to turn back time (wouldn’t that just be magnificent and magical?). He would go back to the club that night, back to the bar where he was full of liquid courage and the lights were low enough to hide his flaming cheeks.

“So.” Graves steps closer to Credence, only stopping when they’re several inches apart. The gallery is packed, but not _that_ crowded. “This is my competition?”

“Excuse me?” Credence’s brow furrows in confusion.

“This is why you turned me down for a date tonight?” Graves gestures around the room.

“Oh.” Credence casts his eyes onto the floor. “Yes, sorry I—”

“Didn’t tell me?” Graves smoothly interrupts. “Why was that?”

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come or anything.” Credence shrugs his shoulders, his face heating up. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Credence.” Graves’ voice is so low and intense Credence feels compelled to raise his gaze and meet Graves’ eyes. “I’m interested in every part of you.”

Credence’s heart pounds against his chest, his breath caught in his throat. Graves’ expression is so sincere, his words steady and warm as they wrap around Credence’s heart and beg to be let in. Could Graves really want him in more way than one?

“Wow, this is really stunning.” A young man steps towards Credence, his eyes fixed on a charcoal sketch beside him. “Is it for sale?”

“Oh, thank you.” Credence shakes himself free from the spell he’s under, turning his attention to the man. “Yes, the whole collection is for sale.”

“What a remarkable piece.” The man eyes it carefully before turning towards Credence. “You’re quite the talent. I imagine the asking price must be quite high.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to negotiate.”

The man looks Credence up and down carefully, a heated glint in his eye. “In that case, maybe we can discuss the price over drinks later tonight?”

“He has plans tonight.” Graves wraps his arm around Credence’s shoulders. His voice is friendly but stern.

“Oh.” The man looks between Credence and Graves before raising his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

Credence isn’t certain if he should feel offended at Graves’ display or melt under the warmth of his touch. He chooses the latter. Graves’ arm is a comforting weight over his shoulders and he smells like spice and citrus. Credence’s pulse thuds excitedly with the knowledge that Graves wants Credence all to himself.

“I’m sorry about that.” Graves clears his throat, looking mildly abashed. His arm, however, remains slung around Credence. “I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous and I didn’t mean to be so possessive.” His voice becomes dark and serious. “But the idea of someone else taking you out, touching you…” Graves trails off, clearing his throat again. Credence is hopelessly thrilled by the faint blush that stains Graves’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” Credence replies, attempting to hide a smile at Graves’ expression of relief. He adds teasingly, “Although, you might have just cost me a sale.”

“Very unprofessional of me,” Graves apologizes, but there is a hint of humor in his voice. “I’ll go take a look around and stop by later. I don’t want to scare off any future patrons.”

Graves slowly removes his arm from Credence’s shoulders, allowing his fingers to trail lightly over the nape of his neck. Credence suppresses the shiver that threatens to take over his whole body at the gentle touch.

Graves takes a step back but stops in his tracks as his eyes focus on the painting directly behind Credence. He stares wordlessly for several moments and Credence fidgets nervously at his silent scrutiny. Credence watches various emotions flicker over Graves’ face until suddenly his nerves overtake him and he begins to speak. 

“That’s the first piece I created for this collection.” Credence chews in his lip as Graves nods his head, his eyes still drawn to the painting. “It’s called _Obscurus_.”

“It’s haunting,” Graves finally says, his voice full of awe and wonder.

“It’s certainly not my happiest piece,” Credence admits, recalling the dark nights he spent working on the painting. He remembers all the pain and tragedy of his past surging through his veins as he painted the canvas in shades of smokey gray, midnight black, and Prussian  
blue.

“It’s beautiful,” Graves says softly. He finally tears his eyes away to look at Credence again. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Credence whispers on a shaky exhale.

“Is it really for sale?” 

“Yes it is,” Credence responds even though his heart aches a bit with the idea of letting his most personal piece go.

“I wouldn’t dream of taking it from you if you’re not ready to part with it,” Graves asserts, sensing Credence’s inner turmoil.

“No,” Credence sighs resoutely. “I’m ready to let it go.”

“If you’re certain,” Graves says slowly. Credence nods his head in compliance. “I’ll take it home tonight then.” Graves examines the price and shakes his head. “It’s worth far more than your asking price. I won’t buy it for any less than double.” 

“Oh no, I—”

“Don’t undersell yourself, Credence.” Graves places a hand on Credence’s shoulder. “You’re worth far more than you know.”

Credence’s heart swells with affection. The bustle of the crowd fades away and he finds himself lost in Graves’ sincere, shining dark eyes.

“I can help you bring it to your loft tonight.” Graves raises an eyebrow, but Credence pushes on, feeling confident and bold. “You did say I had plans tonight. I assume you meant with you?”

“Yes,” Graves agrees, cupping a hand around Credence’s cheek and brushing his lower lip with his thumb. “You’re coming home with me.” Credence presses into the touch and Graves leans forward to whisper in his ear. “I’d best take a walk around now, let everyone else view your magnificent work. But don’t forget, the _Obscurus_ is mine.”

Credence nods in agreement, shuddering as Graves’ lips brush against his ear. Graves pulls away, smiling sensually before disappearing into the crowd. He can sense the hidden meaning behind Graves word, knows what the man really means.

_You’re mine._

Credence wholly agrees.

☕ ☕ ☕

**Next Chapter Coming: 15 January 2017**


	7. praying this will never end

☕ ☕ ☕

It’s strange being back in Graves’ loft again, confronted with the familiar surroundings but without the thrum of alcohol to ease his nerves. Everything seems sharper; the colors of his walls more vibrant, the clicking of his shoes against the hardwood floors louder, the buttery feel of the leather couch softer beneath his fingers. The easy conversation that flowed between them on the car ride over has faded, replaced with a tense and heavy silence. Credence leans against the couch, watching Graves carefully as he removes his jacket and tie.

“Please, feel free to get comfortable,” Graves says casually as he walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “Can I get you something to drink?”

A drink would be divine right now, some burning liquid courage to soothe the anticipation that claws at Credence’s chest. And yet… Credence can’t help but desire to be sober this time. He doesn’t want the alcohol to dull even a moment of what is sure to happen tonight.

“Just some water would be great.” 

Graves raises an eyebrow but complies, twisting the top off a glass Voss bottle and holding it out towards him. Credence pushes himself off the couch and follows Graves into the kitchen, moving around the island to retrieve the bottle. He gulps half of it down, suddenly feeling ridiculously parched. A bit escapes his mouth, dripping from the corner of his lip and sliding down his chin. Graves reaches out and with a rough swipe of his thumb catches the water before it reaches his neck.

Graves’ eyes are immensely dark, his pupils blown so wide they nearly look black. He stares at Credence, never removing his intense scrutiny from Credence’s face as he takes the water bottle back and drinks. Credence feels a strange thrill when he notices Graves’ lips touch the same exact place where Credence’s did.

They’re standing so close, their eyes locked together and Credence is sure he will combust soon if this tension doesn’t break. The air feels thick, muggy, and solid, as if an invisible barrier is keeping them both in place. When Graves places the water bottle down with a loud clunk onto the counter, Credence is sure this is it. Graves is leaning closer, his breath warm against Credence’s face. Credence’s eyes flutter shut, his mouth parting as he readies himself for Graves’ touch. 

It never comes. 

When he opens his eyes again, Graves has taken a step back and Credence has to bite his lip to hold back the groan of disappointment that threatens to spill from his mouth. There is a playful glint in Graves’ eyes as he takes one more step away. His hands fiddle with the fastenings on his vest, teasing the shiny buttons before popping them open one at a time. He can see the command in Graves’ face, but he isn’t ready to surrender—not yet. He wants to hear Graves say it aloud.

“What do you want from me?” Credence asks, proud of how well he hides the tremor in his voice.

“Don’t you already know?” Graves shrugs off his vest, his nimble fingers now working on his button-up . 

“Tell me,” Credence says softly, his eyes transfixed on the exposed toned chest revealed when Graves allows his shirt to flutter to the ground.

Two swift strides and Graves crosses the distance between them, sweeping Credence off his feet as he wraps his arms around him. Credence’s gasp of surprise is soon swallowed by Graves’ mouth, open and wet as he presses against Credence. 

Credence is on fire; he’s positive his entire body must be engulfed in flames. The heat spreads throughout his veins, rising and falling with the rapid beating of his heart. His jaw burns with the rough scratch of stubble from Graves’ unshaved chin, his lips swollen as Graves nips and bites at the tender flesh. Credence is certain he’s never been kissed like this before—not this consuming and overwhelming thing that threatens to swallow him whole.

“What I do want from you?” Graves asks, pulling away slightly and speaking the words against Credence’s panting mouth. His voice is low and gravely. “Everything. I want _everything_.”

Graves’ hands are hot on Credence’s body as he pulls him towards the bedroom, tearing his clothing off and scattering them upon the ground. He’s completely naked by the time Graves tosses him onto the bed, exposed and on display against the fine sheets.

Credence’s heart beats wildly, his chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. Graves stands before the bed, his hands moving to his belt as he slowly removes the rest of his own clothing. The light from the loft is muted through the fogged glass that serves as walls for his bedroom. Graves is softly illuminated by its gentle glow, the edges of his skin golden and blurred.

Credence’s own cock twitches against his stomach when Graves pulls off his briefs to expose his hard, thick cock. It’s just as gorgeous as last time, straining towards Credence and shiny at the tip. He wants Graves so badly, needs to have the other man’s hands on him more than anything in the world.

Graves takes pity on him, lowering his body over Credence’s and capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Their cocks brush and Credence moans against Graves’ mouth, lifting his hips in an attempt to gain more friction. Graves complies, pressing himself further onto Credence and grinding their stiff dicks together. Credence is sure he could come from this alone—from the comforting weight of Graves’ body over his, the pressure of their cocks as they slide together, dry except for the thin stream of their combined pre-come. He’s ready to tell Graves as much, to beg for release as he digs his nails into his back, but Graves moves off him.

“Shh, don’t worry,” Graves reassures when Credence whines in complaint. “I’m far from done with you.”

Graves leans over the side of the bed, fumbling with his night table for a moment before holding a small bottle of lube in his hand. Credence’s ass clenches in eager anticipation.

His fingers are cold at first and Credence involuntarily flinches when his cool, slick digits circle his hole, but they quickly warm up. Credence is soon rocking against Graves’ fingers, begging for more when he finally slips a third finger in.

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Credence gasps, the need for Graves to be inside him becoming overwhelming. Credence’s legs tremble as Graves hooks his arms under them, propping them over his shoulders. His eyes are dark and focused, his gaze skating over Credence’s face as if he’s searching for something. “Please.” Credence’s voice cracks on the broken plea.

Graves lines himself up, pushing in with an agonizingly slow thrust. The burn is fierce but pleasant, stretching Credence to his limit. He expects it to be rough and frantic like their first time, the harsh sound of their slapping flesh filling the room. It’s not. This is different—slow, careful, and much more intense. 

Time passes in a blur of overwhelming sensation; Graves whispering words of praise in his ear, his fingers curling into the sheets, sweet sounds of pleasure spilling from his mouth. Credence feels as if something is breaking inside him, knitting back together delicately before falling apart all over again. Graves continues to brush against that spot deep inside him, sending shivers of want and desire across his body. Credence is leaking against his stomach, his thighs shaking and balls tightening with the need for release.

“Do you want to come, Credence?” Graves’ voice washes over him like salvation, wholly desired and hardly deserved.

“I need, I—” Coherent words flee, his mind far too gone. “Mr. Graves, please—”

“Call me Percival,” Graves chuckles softly.

“Please,” Credence begs, his voice soft as the name slips from his lips. “Percival.”

“Go ahead,” Graves relents. “Come.”

White-hot pleasure shoots through his body and he moans wordlessly in surprise as his cock pulses against his stomach—completely untouched—coating himself with his release. This seems to push Graves over the edge, and his pace increases, nearly brutal in his punishing thrusts as he empties himself inside of Credence.

Graves collapses fully on top of him, murmuring something against his neck, but the soft words are lost to Credence. He lays in a sated daze, realizing his eyelashes are wet and blinks away the unshed tears. He’s overcome, utterly destroyed, and full of such a sharp happiness it’s nearly painful. Graves’ face is open, full of adoration as he lifts his head to peer down at Credence. His expression makes Credence’s heart clench with emotion and he has to fiercely bite his tongue to not utter love confessions in the sweet aftermath.

They lay there for several minutes, the heavy and electric silence lingering between them. Credence feels himself starting to drift off, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his mind when Graves finally climbs off of Credence. He returns shortly with a warm, damp towel, wiping them both off with such care that Credence feels moisture prick at his eyes again.

Graves settles back into bed, pulling a blanket over both their bodies and wrapping his arms around Credence. Graves mutters something into his hair, but Credence can’t seem to register the meaning, his eyes already falling shut as fatigue finally overcomes him. He falls asleep to the steady beat of Graves’ heart against his back.

☕ ☕ ☕

**Final Chapter Coming: 22 January 2017**


	8. bathed in your radiance, I melt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been following this story. All your comments and support have been greatly appreciated. This is the final chapter but I am toying with the idea of adding an epilogue. Let me know what you think and thank you all again! <3
> 
> All my love to PersephoneApple for her beta work on this story and always being so accommodating with my last minute needs!

☕ ☕ ☕

Credence slowly opens his eyes, squinting when the bright glow of the morning sun falls across his face. The silk sheets beneath his body are unfamiliar and he has a brief moment of confusion before the events of last night come rushing in. His heart stutters and he finds himself fully awake, blinking rapidly against the golden sunlight blurring his vision. His hand reaches out, searching for a warm body, but is only met with a cool, empty sheets.

Credence takes a few steadying breaths before his vision adjusts to the room. The loft is entirely quiet; the only noise is the sound of muted traffic from the street below. He pulls himself out of bed, grabbing his discarded clothing that’s littered across the floor. The clock on the side table reveals only an hour to the start of his shift, not nearly enough time to go home and change first. He’s reluctant to go to work in last night’s clothing, even less eager to hear what Lucy will have to say about that, but he refuses to be late to work.

He makes his way to the kitchen, snatching his phone where he had left it on the table and finds a hastily written note waiting for him. The note is rushed and direct—a quick apology about needing to leave early for a meeting with a client, informing Credence the door will automatically lock behind him when he exits. Credence swallows roughly past the lump of disappointment that forms in his throat. He didn’t think they would have some romantic breakfast in bed, but he also didn’t expect a mere impersonal note to greet him in the morning.

Credence is rather pleased when he gets to work, a mere couple of minutes before his shift begins, and finds a long line at the counter. He ties his apron around his waist right away and throws himself into work. Even Lucy is too busy to grill him about the previous night and Credence is grateful for the distraction of the morning rush.

Once early afternoon arrives, however, and the crowd thins out, Credence is left with his growing anxiety and fears. Was it really just another one night stand? Credence can’t imagine all these weeks of visits and flirting have just accounted for mere foreplay, but his logic refuses to win over his worries. 

It’s undeniable that Graves _has_ shown an interest in Credence. The man has made him feel special and wanted, as if Credence possessed something unique that Graves could find nowhere else. Still, Credence can’t understand why Graves would have been so quick to escape in the morning without even waking him, only a note left in his wake.

Maybe it was all a game to Graves. Perhaps Credence was just a challenge—the conquest of the shy, young barista who blushes from a simple touch. Now that Graves has had him, _really_ had him, he’s ready to move on. Credence knows deep inside this can’t be true, but as the hours tick by and there’s no sign of or word from Graves, his heart sinks lower and lower. 

Credence wraps his scarf around his neck, waving goodbye to Lucy and avoiding her concerned gaze. The shop slowed down considerably and Lucy complained that Credence’s melancholy vibe was surely keeping the customers away. He rolled his eyes but clocked out anyway, knowing she was merely teasing and letting him leave early out of kindness. Now that he’s outside the shop though, he feels worse than before, dreading going home to his quiet, empty apartment.

He’s hardly walked a few steps down the block when strong fingers curl around his arm and stop him in place. 

“Is your shift over already?” Graves stands before him, slightly out of breath. “I thought you didn’t get out until six.”

“Lucy cut me early today.” Credence’s heart thuds painfully against his chest, his body super aware of Graves’ hand still clinging to his arm. 

“Oh.” Graves suddenly looks nervous, almost unsure of himself. Credence is unsettled to see this crack in Graves’ usually calm demeanor.

“I can run back in, make your latte for you,” Credence offers. He knows how particular Graves is about his coffee. Could that really be the reason why he looks so flustered?

“No, that’s fine.” Graves’ face breaks into a warm smile. “I—I don’t come here for the coffee.”

“You don’t?” Credence asks, though he knows the answer already. Despite all his misgivings and anxieties throughout the day, he can see the truth painted clearly on Graves’ face. A huge relief fills Credence’s body, all the pieces slipping into place. He grows confident suddenly, presented with this slightly nervous Graves, watching the man’s cheeks stain pink. “What _do_ you come for then?”

“I think you know.” Graves regains his composure, his voice deep and velvety. He steps forward and cups his hands around Credence’s jaw. 

“Maybe you should show me,” Credence says breathlessly, his stomach fluttering and his heart soaring.

Graves’ lips are soft against his, gentle as they cover themselves over Credence’s mouth. This kiss is nothing like the passionate one from last night—it’s tender and careful, as if Credence might break if he presses too hard. Graves might be right to be cautious; Credence feels as if he could shatter easily and fall apart in Graves’ hands. Still, he feels no fear. The doubts and unease melt away, like the last remnants of snow on a warm spring day. 

Credence is certain that even if he were to break and shatter, Graves would be there to pick up every last piece.

☕ ☕ ☕


	9. epilogue: just like romantic verses, just like a joyous end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just couldn't resist coming back and adding a little epilogue. I mixed things up for this final installment and told it from Graves' POV. I hope you all enjoy. Thank you again for all the support along the way. I'm currently focusing on writing a very long, intense Draco/Harry fiction but will likely return one day to write more of these boys!

☕ ☕ ☕

_Six Months Later_

 

Dark strands of hair stick to Credence’s forehead and beads of sweat are quickly wiped away by the back of his hand. He chews his lip, the flesh becoming red and swollen beneath his sharp teeth. Those dark eyes shine as he lifts his gaze, flashing Graves a quick, secretive smile before returning his attention to the espresso machine.

Graves could watch Credence work for hours—sometimes does on his days off. The bustle and clatter of the coffee shop fade away as Graves stares at Credence, his sight fixed only on the young man behind the counter. Credence is always so absorbed in his work, his attention firmly drawn to the task at hand. Graves loves the way his brow furrows as he concentrates, how he becomes lost in his actions without a care to the world. His expression is much like this when he paints. Graves preciously holds the memories of the few times Credence has allowed him to watch as he creates his works. There is nothing so beautiful as observing Credence become captured in his art, deaf and blind to the world around him. 

“Ready to go?” Credence tilts his head questioningly, breaking Graves from his daydreams. “Lucy is letting me leave a few minutes early today.”

“How kind of her,” Graves drawls, smirking at Lucy and giving her a friendly wink.

“Don’t mention it.” Lucy waves off, face flushing slightly. “The place was going to burst into flames soon with the heated looks you keep giving Credence.”

“Lucy,” Credences hisses, embarrassed. His cheeks flush the most lovely shade of pink.

“Come on.” Graves stands, stretches and wraps his arm around Credence, guiding him towards the door. “Let’s go.”

☕ ☕ ☕

The cool night air swirls around them both and Credence leans into Graves’ warm embrace. Graves loves the feeling of Credence’s slight frame against his body. It’s as if Credence is some beautiful, delicate creature that Graves is meant to protect. His sweet innocence is what drew Graves towards him that very first time, amidst the sweaty eager men at the club so long ago. He was enchanted with Credence’s shy smile, the way his dark eyes stayed fixed on the ground. Graves wanted him at first glance, desperately desired to break Credence apart so he could be there to put him back together. Graves has learned, since then, that Credence is much more resilient than he appears. His sweet vulnerabilities are what gives him courage, his tender, unsure smiles mask the strong young man within.

“So.” Credence bumps his shoulder against Graves’. “What fancy restaurant are you taking me to tonight?”

“I thought perhaps we could grab some food to go and bring it back to the loft.”

“That sounds good to me,” Credence agrees. 

Credence turns to Graves, his pink lips spreading into a wide grin. Credence’s whole face changes when he smiles and the edge of sorrow in his eyes fades away. Graves’ heart turns over, slowly and painfully, and he swallows harshly against the lump of emotion forming in his throat. The spare key, made just this morning, feels heavy in his pocket.

☕ ☕ ☕

“That was delicious,” Credence moans happily as he licks the remants of sauce from his fingers. 

Graves stares, transfixed by the way Credence’s deft tongue wraps around his sticky digits. Tendrils of arousal curl in Graves’ stomach, his cock hardening swiftly in his pants. He wonders how Credence is so capable of making him lose his cool. Graves is certain he had much more self-control before he met this dark and mysterious young man. Credence looks up, flushing when he catches the dark desire twirling in Graves’ eyes.

“What have you done to me?” Graves mutters to himself, crawling over to where Credence sits on the couch.

Credence opens his mouth, as if he has a possible answer to Graves’ rhetorical question. His lips quickly press together, though, when Graves reaches his destination. He spreads Credence’s legs apart and settles between them. Credence looks down, his pupils blown wide and his face twisted in a silent plea.

Graves rubs his face against the seam of Credence’s jeans, eliciting a soft groan from Credence. His growing erection presses against the denim and Graves uses his teeth to unzip his fly. Credence shifts his hips, hands falling down to assist Graves and shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“Naughty boy,” Graves murmurs against Credence’s straining bare cock. He loves when Credence doesn’t wear anything under his tight jeans. Credence bucks towards the hot gust of air brushing against his exposed flesh. 

“Please,” Credence whimpers, a pearly bead of pre-come dripping from his slit.

Graves presses a soft kiss against the swollen head, licking away the sticky strands of come that cling to his lips. Credence always tastes so delicious, like tart lemon and sunshine. He shivers beneath Graves’ touch and Graves takes pity on him, licking a long stripe along the shaft. Credence’s answering gasp spurs Graves on. He licks and sucks, offering teasing swipes of his tongue against Credence’s throbbing cock.

Credence is already mostly gone when Graves wraps his mouth around the thick width of Credence. He sucks fiercely and bobs his head steadily, relishing in the stream of pre-come coating his mouth. Credence cries out, bucking his hips erratically and tangling his fingers into Graves’ short hair. He pulls roughly, a desperate moan echoing across the room as he fills Graves’ mouth with his release. 

Graves swallows it all down, pressing another soft kiss to the tip of Credence’s spent cock before pulling away. Credence blinks owlishly at Graves, a sated and grateful expression spread across his face.

“Let’s continue this in the bedroom.” 

Graves adjusts his stiff dick stretching against his trousers and stands to his feet. He offers a hand to Credence as the younger man unsteadily rises from the couch.

“Okay,” Credence says dreamily before his expression sobers slightly. “But, don’t let me fall asleep afterwards. I really have to get a change of clothes from my apartment tonight.”

“Right. Yes.” Graves clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably. “About that…”

“Yes?” Credence’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Here.” Graves removes the key from his pocket and shoves it unceremoniously in Credence’s hand. 

“Is this—”

“Yes,” Graves interrupts. “It’s a key to the loft. I also cleared out a couple of drawers and some closet space.” Credence blinks and Graves swallows nervously, rushing on. “You’re here so often anyway, it doesn’t make sense to not keep some of your belongings here. My loft is closer to your job as it is, and…” 

Graves’ words trail off as he catches sight of the wide smile spreading across Credence’s lips. His face brightens like the sun rising at dawn; glowing, golden and majestic. Credence’s entire body seems to flush and Graves wonders if his own warming cheeks reflect that same burning fervor.

“That sounds very reasonable,” Credence says softly.

“Good.” Graves’ voice trembles as he attempts to hide the emotion behind his words. “I’m glad you agree.”

“Now will you take me to bed?” Credence blinks the wetness from his eyes and smiles wickedly.  
A surprised laugh escapes Credence’s mouth as Graves bends over and sweeps Credence off his feet and into his arms. He cradles Credence close to his chest, carrying him as if they are newlyweds and Graves is leading Credence to their marriage bed. 

_There’s time left for that_ , Graves thinks to himself with a secret smile.

For now, Graves enjoys the sweet rush of affection that pours from Credence’s lips as he drops him onto the bed and settles over his body. Credence is his and Graves irrevocably belongs to Credence. 

He will never allow this perfect, gorgeous creature to slip from his careful grasp.

_fin_

☕ ☕ ☕

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Kudos/Comments = <3
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://mugglelissa.tumblr.com/)  
> Find me on [livejournal](http://users.livejournal.com/-melodic-/)


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